All tied up is how we meet my latest heroine, a young lady of dubious moral inclination.

Before you read about Tiggy’s misadventures, I’d like to take a quick moment to say that How To Catch A Cowgirl has been doing awesomely, so thanks to everyone who picked up a copy!

And now, to the bondage…

*****

Tiggy struggled against her bonds. She had been tied up before, of course, but never so tight as this. Never so tight that moving made subsequent movement more difficult and more painful. The blindfold wasn’t helping any either. She couldn’t see a damned thing. Just darkness, darkness and more darkness.

“People are so terribly bad at giving to pressure,” a refined voice drawled. It was feminine, husky, with just a note of gravel. It was an interesting voice, one which made Tiggy still her struggles for just a moment so that she might hear more of it.

“There you go,” the voice came again. “Staying still stops the pain. That’s all you have to do, just stay still.”

“Why am I here?” Tiggy asked the question to the darkness.

“You’ve been naughty.”

Naughty? Tiggy had no idea what that was supposed to mean. “You’re going to have to expand on that.”

“I don’t have to do anything.”

Something began running up the inside of Tiggy’s thigh. Fingernails, hard and well manicured by the feeling. They started on the inside of her knee and moved up toward the apex of her thighs tantalizingly slow.

She held her breath as those feminine digits drew close to the most sensitive part of her body. Even though she was blindfolded, tied up, kidnapped, she spread her thighs. It was more than an instinctive response, it was borne of need. It had been two weeks since Tiggy last got laid. Two weeks since anyone made her cum. Two weeks too long.

The fingers stroked all the way to the top of her thighs, then slid back down again without giving her so much as a hint of pleasure. Frustrating. Her body grew tense as the woman’s hand slid away.

“What do you want?”

“Oh I have what I want,” the woman in the darkness drawled.

Tiggy gasped as a hand cupped her pussy. She had been wearing nothing but a t-shirt and panties when she was grabbed. She had been halfway through the dishes which had been building up for a week. She hadn’t objected terribly much to being dragged away. Better to be someone’s prisoner than try to get week old lasagne off a baking dish.

The woman’s hand was warm. Strong. Her palm settled over Tiggy’s lips and rubbed gently, massaging the softly swollen protectors of Tiggy’s inner chamber.

“Who are you?” Tiggy breathed the question.

“You know who I am,” the woman replied.

“I would know that voice if I had heard it before.”

“We didn’t speak. We did the deal via email. You sold me an antique vase. What I received was something I imagine you made in pottery class. Barely a week old. Far from antique.”

“Time is relative,” Tiggy smirked. “Just ask Einstein.”

The fingers between her thighs tapped against her vulnerable pussy with warning. “You’re a scammer,” the woman said. “You think there aren’t consequences for what you do. You’re wrong.” Fingers curled between Tiggy’s thighs, pushed the damp fabric aside and began stroking her wet lips directly. “And you’re wet.”